


Felines, Felons, and Canines

by Salazzle



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Basically Everyone Who's An Important Human Is A Dog, Cat Connor, Connor Tries His Best, Dog Gavin, Dog Hank, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Hank Tries His Least Or Better, Important Androids Are Cats, Protective Hank Anderson, Slight Parental Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 15:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15709599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salazzle/pseuds/Salazzle
Summary: Crime on the relatively peaceful Detroit streets was rising by the week, and the Detroit K-9 Unit had their paws full with allt he animal related crime by itself. The humans of the Detroit Police Department contacted MeowerLife, believing a cat would benefit the Unit.Cue Connor, the cat sent by MeowerLife, to join the DK9U.His job won't be easy as he struggles with prejudice, deviant cats, and his own dawning deviancy.





	Felines, Felons, and Canines

There have always been both cats and dogs, although back before domestication, they ran free and tolerated each other. Some got along together better than others, but it was peaceful. Then, the time of humans came about, domesticating both the felines and canines.

 

Since dogs were considered "man's best friend", they spent a lot for time by their owners sides, and thus gained some rather devious perspectives. One that was put into action was the domestication of cats, but this time it was by the dogs.

 

Now, in 2038, cats of all breeds and sizes worked with dogs like computers to humans. Near slaves with no free will, unable to express their emotions for fear that they will be attacked for it.

 

In a smart-looking, aesthetically-pleasing but boring colored building known as MeowerLife, a discussion was being held between the Alpha of MeowerLife, Amanda, and ML300, who could be considered the second-in-command.

 

"So they want a cat, do they? The DPD?" Amanda drawled, the word "cat" catching in her throat and coming out as a growl/

 

"Yes." ML300 confirmed, glancing down at her paws briefly.

 

Amanda tsked, her tail giving a lazy wag in thought. She couldn't just send any old cat, and a cat who would deviate from their training would be detrimental to MeowerLife and the DPD.

 

"What do you think we should do, ma'am? It's your decision." ML300 prompted, interrupting the dog's train of thought. Her eyes were trained on the wall behind Amanda, as she and other cats at MeowerLife had been instructed to do.

 

Allowing herself a smirk at her subordinate's obedience, Amanda rose to her paws, her claws clicking against the bleak title floor as she started slowly pacing around ML300. Despite her being lesser in physical power—as a Labrador Retriever, of course—the subtle shifting of the mountain lion showed Amanda that her predatory circling was working in intimidating ML300.

 

"Hmm, I'm not sure," She all but purred, locking eyes with the large cat, "what do you think we should do, ML300?"

 

It was a trick question, ML300 knew. She let her eyes meet the brown ones of her superior, raising her chin slightly.

 

"I do not know," More blows to her pride that the Labrador relished, "as I do not have the necessary intelligence to put decisions in motion." It was word for word what the instructor had recited to her as a kitten, an adolescent, and also now, as an adult.

 

"Good." Amanda's tone was sharp, but undeniably pleased.

 

"Now, I believe we should send RK800."

 

ML300's head jerked up, her surprise temporarily erasing the ingrained training within her, "The housecat?"

 

"Don't question me." Amanda turned, heading out of the bustling room with purpose. Her tail wagged slowly behind her in thought. She had much to do and much to look forward to in the coming weeks.

 

* * *

 

 

"Kitten." A crisp, no-nonsense voice called out.

 

Connor's ears twitched, and he glanced up to see a mountain lion—an ML300, Felicity, Amanda's "second-in-charge" technically—staring at him. He willed his pelt to not rise as he cleared his throat, fully turning to the other.

 

"Yes, ML300?"

 

"You're being deployed," She smiled a bit as Connor's eyes brightened, "to the Detroit Police Department. The K-9 Unit. Whoever was assigned to be your partner will be arriving soon in their vest to escort you. Please gather any personal items you would like. MeowerLife thanks you." The last part was said almost mechanically, and her smile had been replaced by a frown as she left.

 

Connor's head reeled with all the information he was given in such a sort time. He marveled at how Felicity had barely stopped for breath during the whole five minutes. There was a more pressing matter, though. Out of all the eligible cats at MeowerLife—ones stronger or faster than him—why him? He was new. He was a housecat, a term that had been directed at him more than enough in his short time at the company to know that it was derogatory.

 

Having no personal items, Connor made his way down to the lobby, winding around some feet of humans mingling in the common area. The non-workers were bewildered, but the human employees had learned early on how the company really worked. The pet-supply selling thing was merely a front for underground breeding, though it was unbeknownst to the cats employed there.

 

"Right. I'm Connor, the cat sent by MeowerLife." Connor recited to himself, nervously waiting on the front steps outside for his partner.

 

It was about thirty or so minutes before he saw the glint of a metal badge adorned on a navy blue vest. The wearer was a large, formidable Saint Bernard, who stopped when he saw Connor.

 

"You're Connor?" The disbelief was evident in the gruff police dog's voice, his eyes looking Connor's small frame up and down.

 

"R-Right. I'm Connor, the cat sent by MeowerLife."

 

Judging by the dog's grimace, the housecat could tell that response was not appropriate.

 

Well. Their partnership was off to a rocky start, to say the least.


End file.
